


Wicked Game

by DontMakeMeFrosty (AvaHasAClosetMurderBoard)



Series: Killervibe Week 2019 [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, But Reverb likes it, F/M, Killer Frost is a little sht, these two i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaHasAClosetMurderBoard/pseuds/DontMakeMeFrosty
Summary: “You better watch out before I freeze those hands of yours, Reverb.”A snort. “You’re the one who can’t seem to be able to keep your hands to yourself lately.”Her eyes flicker momentarily to where his hands are and a cocky smile appears on her lips. “Look who’s talking.”Or the one where Frost plays a dangerous game that has them both falling down the rabbit hole.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ciscoatthedisco](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ciscoatthedisco).

> Happy belated birthday to @ciscoatthedisco ! This one is for you, hope you like it <3
> 
> Thanks to @Starling83 for beta'ng this absolute mess which I actually had tons of fun writing and it's a bit outside of my comfort zone but Hey! It's good to try new things. 
> 
> There's no smut in it by the way, sorry guys :'D

They’re all standing on the old cortex of S.T.A.R. Labs, amid rust and rubble that stands barely concealed and half swiped out of the way. Reverb and Killer Frost stand together, side by side, leaning against what was once a long work desk. They watch with unabashed amusement as Barry paces up and down the room. He’s been doing it for at least more than half an hour now, and the two of them have a bet going on how long it will take him to trip on himself. Five more minutes pass and he trips, nearly falling onto the dusty ground; Reverb tuts and grudgingly slips a twenty dollar bill towards Frost.

He’s not even sure what they’re doing in this old, nearly defunct building in the first place. Barry had been adamant about them meeting him there, along with Black Canary, the Arrow and two other new recruits whose names he never bothered to learn - Reverb never works directly with them anyways. Joe is also there, for some reason, and he keeps looking around the room like he’s expecting them to jump him any second now. Reverb rolls his eyes behind his glasses. 

So much for the whole ‘turning a new leaf’ thing. Sure, he may have tried to kill his daughter once but she’d been the one to point the gun at him _ first. _

Black Canary clears her throat and everyone’s eyes snap towards her, including Barry’s. He stops pacing and Reverb can see the sudden nervousness in his body language, even if he tries his best to stand straight and look her in the eye. It’s still fresh in everyone’s minds, the little ‘incident’ between those two which ended with an arrow embedded deep into Barry’s calf, and he’s honestly surprised that whatever they are waiting for is important enough to have these two in the same room again. 

“We don’t have all day, _ Flash. _” The way the word curls on her tongue has a shiver running down his spine, even with the familiar cold that emanates from Frost right next to him. “What’s so important that you have us gathering here, of all places, first thing in the morning?” 

As if on cue, there’s footsteps sounding in the nearby hallway and all eyes are on the doorway. Killer Frost tenses next to him and on instinct he does the same, opening and clenching his hand, ready for what may be coming.

And then suddenly Iris West, of all people, is stepping into the cortex. Even if they’re keeping a respectable distance between them, the looks she and Barry trade are very telling. Reverb smugly chances a side glance towards Killer Frost, who just rolls her eyes and slips the twenty dollar bill back to him. She even calls him a _ ‘cheater’ _under her breath and he nearly laughs out loud. 

Perhaps she shouldn’t have made a bet with someone who can literally _ see _ into the future - the entire multiverse for that matter. 

Barry clasps his hands together and his eyes briefly scan the room until his gaze falls on Iris again, who seems to be just as nervous as he is. Reverb nearly gags when he sees them suddenly hold hands and share this little secret smile between themselves.

“I called everyone here because I have an announcement to make.” Barry begins and his eyes are literally disgustingly full of love and affection. “Iris and I…”

“Are dating!”

It’s Iris who finishes the sentence for him, because of course she does, and Reverb is glad he’s not the only one rolling his eyes yet again. Black Canary seems ready to strangle Barry, Arrow looks bored, the other two are… cheering - they are the only ones - and Joe looks ready to pass out at any second now. But it’s Killer Frost, with her face scrunched up in disdain, who catches his attention.There’s a layer of amusement dancing behind her eyes when she shoots a glance his way, and when that little smirk that screams _ trouble _appears on her lips, he knows something terrible is coming his way. 

“That’s so great guys!,” she purrs out and there’s sarcasm dripping from every word. “I guess that perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to make a little announcement myself.” A pause and she turns to face him fully with the sweetest smile. “Reverb and I are also dating! Isn’t that great?”

If he had been drinking something at that moment, he would have spat it out. Or choked to death on it. 

He wants to protest, wants to ask her _ ‘what the hell’ _; but then he notices the absolutely priceless looks on everyone’s faces - especially Barry and Iris, who just had their little moment overshadowed - and decides two can play this game. Reverb throws his arm around Frost’s shoulders and pulls her closer to him, and is absolutely delighted when she makes a face but doesn’t move away. 

“We’ve actually been dating for a while, isn’t that right _ Frosty-bun _?”

It’s her turn to nearly choke, but she’s quick to cover up the slip-up, much to his amusement. “Yeah, that’s right, _ babe. _” Her right hand moves to rest on his thigh and he can feel the frost seeping through the material of his pants and chilling his skin. He shivers. “We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it but since we’re doing announcements anyways…”

A little awkward chorus of ‘_ congratulations _ ’ is thrown their way and when the attention shifts back to Barry and Iris again, Reverb lets out a small breath of relief. The hand on his thigh retracts and Frost unceremoniously brushes his arm off her shoulders. He quickly starts to rub at his leg to get the blood flowing again. She stands up and places herself right in front of him, blocking the view of the rest of the room. Reverb can tell she’s pissed by the icy - _ no pun intended _ \- glare she fixes him with. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”, Frost half hisses, half whispers, mindful to make sure they’re not overheard. “_ Frosty-bun? _ Are you _ kidding _ me?!”

“Hey, excuse me if nothing else came to mind after _ you _ambushed me! A little heads-up next time would be nice.”

She flashes him that smirk of hers and tilts her head slightly. “Guess you _didn’t see_ that one coming, did you?”

Reverb rolls his eyes behind his glasses at the double entendre. “Very funny… But I’m serious, Frost, I didn’t expect-” he faintly gestures between them. “This. What are we supposed to do now?”

“Nothing.”

He gives her a look of disbelief, even if she can’t see it. “... Nothing? You do realize that everyone standing in this room - including our dear leader - thinks we’re dating?”

“So?”

“You’re kidding me, right? We either sell it or they’ll figure out we’re lying.”

A shrug. “I had my fun with seeing their faces and I’m sure you did too.” Frost pauses and her gaze falls on her nails. She looks absolutely bored. “Now we just wait a few days, you break up with me in front of everyone and ta-da! Problem solved.”

“That simple, uh?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

Reverb says nothing and Frost moves away from him with a sway of her hips, teasing. He watches her go, noting that cocky smile back on her lips as she addresses the others in the room and suggests they go out for a few celebratory drinks. Barry immediately agrees, probably happy to have an excuse to put a stop to yet another argument with Black Canary, and shortly after they’re all discussing which underground bar to hit.

Once everyone is ready to leave, Frost turns back to him with a flourish. She offers him her arm with a wink and a playful smile on her lips. He actually takes it and offers her one of his own, and is pleased when she shoots him an odd look.

Little did she know he was already planning some payback. 

******

It’s only been a week since the entire ‘fake dating’ thing started and Reverb is already going stir-crazy. 

For someone who didn’t seem to care at all about being discovered in her little lie, Killer Frost was sure going out of her way to play pretend. More than once she stood far too close to him than she usually would, but what was driving him absolutely insane were the touches. Just little casual touches here and there, innocent at first, on the back of his hand or on his shoulder, his lower back… even on his thigh, where her hand would linger more than necessary - and appropriate. He didn’t understand why she had suddenly decided to care enough to do that, to put effort in pretending. That is, until one day she’d leaned down in front of him and he got a clear shot at her cleavage and at the devious little smile she flashed him right after noticing him squirming in his chair. 

She was doing it all_ on purpose _to set him off.

_ And the worst part was that it was working. _

It wasn’t hard for him to quickly turn the tables on her after that by playing the exact same game. He took particular pleasure in feeling her muscles tense each time he wrapped an arm around her waist without warning, when Barry and the others were in the same room. He’d watch with amusement how she would always shoot him a glare over her shoulder, but never move away. Of course after a while she did a one-up on him, by casually dropping an overly sweet kiss on his cheek, right before she was due to leave on patrol with Black Canary.

Another week passes and their little ‘game’ continues, this time with a fake date thrown into the mix, and she even ends up spending the night at his place to ‘keep up appearances’. He makes her sleep on his couch, since he’s not about to give away his bed. 

It’s two months later and they’re almost glued to the hip. Their little touches have grown far less innocent than they’d been at the start and it’s driving Reverb - and their entire team - absolutely crazy. It’s during one of those times when he’s doing some repairs in his little workshop, that she approaches from behind and presses her entire body against his. 

There’s no one else around when she does it and that’s what makes the alarm bells go off in his brain. 

He turns suddenly on his heel and pushes her back against one of the tall shelves in the room, effectively trapping her body between his and the cool metal. Frost lets out a half gasp, half hiss, but her eyes remain just as playful as they’ve always been each time, and she doesn’t even seem one bit surprised at his response. 

That makes him frown.

“Frost,” he hisses out, “What are you playing at?”

She lets out a laugh but says nothing, and he just looks at her - _ really _ looks at her - and his eyes narrow the more he reads between the lines, the more he realizes exactly what she’s been doing. It was obvious that Killer Frost would end up growing bored of their little game and instead of doing something about it _ herself _ , she’d gone out of her way to _ make him _ fix the problem for her. 

A disbelieving _ ‘really?’ _ is all he manages and she laughs again, right in his face. He growls in response and pushes his body further into hers, hands digging on her hips, and then there’s the familiar sound of metal hitting metal and she’s letting out an audible hiss, eyes narrowing to slits.

“You better watch out before I freeze those hands of yours, _ Reverb. _” 

A snort. “You’re the one who can’t seem to be able to keep your hands to yourself lately.”

Her eyes flicker momentarily to where his hands are and a cocky smile appears on her lips. “Look who’s talking.” 

Reverb lets out a growl and pushes against her body again, relishing in the way she lets out a gasp when he does it. He hides his face in her hair, breathes in the fresh scent that is so _ hers _, and then there’s a smile on his lips when he feels her hands resting on either side of his waist. He can feel her heart - or maybe it's actually both - beating unsteadily where their chests are pressed together and just like that he’s suddenly forgetting all the reasons why he should be pushing her away, instead of holding her like this. It’s a new feel, a new sort of dangerous rush and he welcomes it with open arms. Reverb doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his lips make contact with the hollow of Killer Frost’s throat and he finds himself unceremoniously shoved back against his desk.

Metal, schematics and some of his tools all hit the floor with variously ‘thuds’ and his eyes go wide when there’s a sting of pain in his hip - where it makes contact with something sharp - that has him let out a yelp. He’s a bit winded and whiplashed from the unexpected reaction, and barely has time to get his bearings before her hands are on his collar and he’s being violently tugged towards her.

When their gazes meet, Reverb is met with a thunderous expression. Her features are twisted in a sneer, eyes glowing dangerously, and he can feel the sharp coolness that suddenly emanates from her. Frost practically growls on his face and he’s first instinct is to ready himself for a fight. His muscles tense and he can feel the power flowing down, can feel the familiar tingling all the way to the tips of his fingertips. 

He has no qualms in blasting her away, if it comes to that.

“Touch me again,” she sneers out. “And I’ll kill you.”

Frost shoves him one last time and then she’s letting go of his jacket and walking out of the room. He doesn’t even react, doesn’t even move, too stunned by the outburst and the threat. It’s not like she hadn’t said anything like that before; it’s because this time it actually felt _ real _. 

Arrow finds him much later, still leaning against his desk, and informs him that Killer Frost has skipped town. 


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, this chapter is from Killer Frost's p.o.v.

The night is uncharacteristically warm for mid-November. It’s humid and sticky and she finds it incredibly suffocating, even if she’s by the waterfront of this small sleepy coast town. Frost had called in a couple of favours and had left a long trail of bus tickets, enough that the team would have a field trip making sense of the jumble of ups and downs between cities… Only to figure out that she hadn’t been on any of them in the first place. She’d actually breached there using an old untraceable device she’d ‘acquired’ a few months back - confiscated from a meta-human and right into her pocket, just in case she ever had the need to go off radar for a few days; perhaps even a few weeks. 

What made this location perfect was the fact that it barely showed up on any map. The main road was a good one hour walking distance away, and even from there the only way to reach this place was to follow a pedestrian trail that was mostly faded from disuse. 

If Barry bothered to look around the country for her, he would surely skip the entire area all together. Black Canary and the Arrow had their hands full, always hopping between Starling and Central City, and she’s positively sure Joe is glad she’s gone. 

She’s not even counting Artemis and Wild Dog, the new recruits who have little love for her. Needless to say the feeling is mutual.

No, the only person on the entire team with the means - and the time - to locate her is Reverb. And she’s more than sure he wouldn’t come for her. At least not for now.

Killer Frost lets out a breath and runs her fingers through her white hair in frustration at the thought of him. What was she even thinking, playing games like that in the first place _ ?  _ She’d been expecting him to crack like an egg the moment her little provocations grew in boldness, but somehow the fact that he didn’t -  _ instead responding in kind  _ \- was far more satisfactory than anything else could have been. It was exhilarating and unexpected, and she should have seen the problem the second his touches became welcome, instead of only a means to make the rest of their team - and him, really - uncomfortable.

She’s still not sure what had possessed her to walk into his workshop and lean her entire body against his like she had. They’d been alone in the hideout, with the rest of the team off to some emergency in Starling City where both Frost and Reverb weren’t needed. There was something about it, something about them having the place to themselves - with no one watching - that had pushed her to wonder how he would react to her if the variables changed. They only ever ‘played around’ when someone else was in the same room - what would he do if there was no one?

Frost would be lying if she didn’t admit that a twisted part of her had been absolutely  _ delighted _ when Reverb had roughly pushed her against the shelving and pressed his whole body against hers. And that delight only grew, when after he’d figured out her little charade of trying to set him off on purpose he didn’t push her away, but had dug his fingers into the skin of her hips. A million different scenarios - none of them PG rated - ran through her brain the second he’d pushed his body against hers a second time… but then there was a pair of warm lips on her neck and the spell was broken. 

Maybe she had overreacted with the whole  _ ‘touch me again and I’ll kill you’  _ routine but even now, even hours and two cold showers later, she could still feel the ghost of his touch on the hollow of her throat and it was absolutely maddening. How was it that, from all the things, from all his touches, that was the one that’d given her pause?

She casts one last look over the pier as the sun begins to set and turns on her heel towards the small seedy motel she’ll be staying at. 

Some things were perhaps best left unanswered. 

**** **

The next few days go by with no major developments. The town is too quiet and the little residents that live there know better now than to get in her way - or do as much as address her directly - after she freezes a man’s wandering hand off and throws him effortlessly through the window of the small bar. She spends most of her waking hours there, sitting at a small table on one of the corners, or outside by the pier looking into nothing in particular. It’s boring compared to running around with the rest of the team chasing metas or whatever - and playing her little games with Reverb - but at least in some way it helps her to push, or rather,  _ avoid  _ certain things she isn’t ready to deal with. 

One shot follows another, and she slams the small cup down hard enough to make the bulky woman behind the counter flinch. Frost flashes her the sweetest little smile when the woman cautionally approaches her table, and the way her hand trembles when she refills the glass shot never gets old. She also steals glances towards Killer Frost as she does it, like she’s expecting to be frozen solid at any second. The scene repeats itself a few more times - she’s not even sure how many drinks she’d downed by now - and then there’s a hand on hers and the glass is taken away. 

She reacts but it’s too late. The person in question has long moved out of her reach, so her swatting hand makes contact with nothing but air. She frowns. It takes a moment for her to blink away the surprise and confusion that has settled is soon replaced by anger. Frost narrows her eyes and snaps her gaze towards whoever has as much as dared to come close without an invitation , only to find a pair of familiar green eyes staring at her with amusement.

It’s Black Canary.

Frost can only watch as the other woman downs her shot in one fluid motion and slams the empty cup down on the small table. She then pulls on the empty chair across from her. It screeches painfully on the old wooden floor as she does, and Frost winces at the sound. Canary doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by it and takes a seat.

Her gaze wanders around the bar for a second before settling on Frost. 

“I see you’ve scared these people to death.” Canary starts and there’s an edge of amusement to her voice. “Well done,  _ Frosty. _ ”

“Don’t call me  _ that. _ ” she snaps almost immediately, but it lacks the normal bite. She hopes the other woman doesn’t notice.

She does and there’s suddenly a little smile on her face that Frost finds unsettling.

“You know, when I heard you’d skipped town, I never expected this to be the reason.”

Frost frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You tell me.”

A snort. “I thought you had my reasoning all figured out, Canary. So please, by all means…” She makes a faint gesture with her hand, amusement all over her face. “Enlighten me.”

“Reverb.”

Her face falls and the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach returns . Frost shifts in her chair and crosses her arms above her chest, and tries to ignore the ghost of a touch on her neck that still haunts her. “What about him?”

Canary shrugs and leans back on her chair, hands behind her head. She doesn’t say anything for a few moments, eyes lost somewhere on the ceiling above them, like she’s thinking over her next words carefully. Killer Frost just watches her and takes the pause in the conversation to try and regain some composure. Her thoughts are all over the place, a jumbled mess of fuzzy images and half sentences, along with  _ something  _ at the mention of his name that she’d rather not think about. She doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until she feels a patch of skin on her neck protesting and tingling, and Frost immediately retracts her hand like it’d been burned.

She’d started to absently scratch and rub at the spot were his lips had been. 

The other woman is watching her with an unreadable expression on her face and Frost wants nothing more than to bolt out of the place and away from her gaze.  _ ‘She knows’  _ is the only thing that crosses her mind at that moment, and she doesn’t know if she’s more relieved or furious that Canary, of all people, has seemingly found out about her dirty little secret. 

But if she knows and she’s there, that can only mean…

_ He knows. Reverb knows. _

Her eyes go wide and her lips part with a gasp while Canary sits there rolling her eyes like this isn’t the end of the world. It sure feels like that to her, at least.

“Relax, I don’t think he really knows why you left.” Canary casually stretches her arms and shifts in her chair. Her feet rest on the table. “For someone who’s supposed to be smart, he sure can be thick sometimes.”

A little smile tugs at the corners of Frost's lips, but it’s gone just as fast. “But you do. You know why I left.”

“I do. No offense, but I saw through this ‘dating’ thing right from the start, Frosty. Your mistake was not giving him a tell or a bit of a heads-up before you sprang that little game on him.” She tilts her head in consideration. “Reverb is a lot of things, but being a very good liar unfortunately isn't one of them. Plus, come on…  _ ‘Frosty-bun’ _ ? Like you’d ever let him call you that and live to tell the tale.”

An honest laugh escapes her and she can’t help the tiny smile that permanently sits on her lips at Canary’s words. “That’s very true.”

Canary moves her feet off the table and comes closer, a conspicuous little smile playing on her lips. “So… what’s the problem then?”

“Excuse me?”

“You and Reverb, what’s the problem? You clearly have a thing for him.”

The smile is instantly gone and she presses her lips together in a thin line. Killer Frost is quiet for a while, weighing her options. She could either deny it and walk away - which wouldn’t work seeing as Canary  _ knew  _ \- or she could take the metaphorical bull by the horns and face what she’d been avoiding for the past few days. The answer seemed pretty clear.

“I don’t know how to deal with it.” 

The other woman seems taken aback by the sudden open admission and blinks once, twice, three times. “Well… That was unexpected. I confess I came here more prepared to deal with getting an icicle in my face than actual girl talk but hey, one can adapt.” Canary glances towards the bar for a second and raises her index finger. “Hang on a sec though. If we’re going to be talking about feelings, I need a drink or two.” 

Killer Frost just half nods and watches as Canary makes her way towards the counter, and without even asking, swipes a full bottle of whiskey right from under the bartender’s nose. The poor woman literally turns red on the spot and starts sputtering nonsense, but makes no move to stop her. Canary returns to the table with the bottle and flops herself down on her chair across from Frost.

She pulls the cork with her teeth and spits it out, before taking a long swig. “Alright,” she begins. “Talk.”

And talk she does. There was no point pretending anymore so she lets it all out, all those doubts and things -  _ feelings  _ \- she doesn’t know how to deal with. Canary just nods along and Frost is surprised and taken aback by how she just sits there and actually  _ listens  _ without a shred of judgement on her face. She’d half expected the woman to laugh in her face when she mentioned that gentle kiss on the neck that had set her off and caused her to storm out of the city, but she doesn’t. Would be easier if she did, truly. 

They talk until the owner is brave enough to finally kick them out, and Frost has to support Canary as they step outside the small bar. She’s completely drunk, swaying like a leaf in the wind, and she’s surprised how she manages to stir them towards the small motel she’s staying in without both ending up sprawled on the floor. The man behind the counter gives them a funny look when they pass the reception desk, in part because she’s dragging a half-conscious, well-known ‘hero’ up the stairs while said ‘hero’ is spouting nonsense about ‘ _ true love being blind _ ’ and it knowing ‘ _ no obstacles _ ’.

She rolls her eyes and ignores it. 

A few occupants come out of their rooms to see what the commotion is about, but are quickly dissuaded to turn on their heels and mind their own business when a volley of small icicles embs itself on various surfaces. Canary makes an offhand comment at it, purrs out a  _ ‘feisty’ _ , and she seriously considers just dropping her on the floor there and then.

Killer Frost may have, but  _ Caitlin Snow _ is a totally different story.

She doesn’t even need to glance at the long mirror that she passes on the way to her room to know her eyes have shifted, from the usual icy blue to a warm brown. And she doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to look and actually come face-to-face with the person she’d sworn had died so long ago. Killer Frost doesn’t even  _ remember _ being Caitlin Snow, but Caitlin does. 

And she’s not really sure which one she is right now.

Reaching for the key inside her jean’s pocket proves to be a real challenge, but she manages somehow - hopefully Canary won’t remember why there’s a bump on her forehead in the morning. 

They enter the room and she barely gets the door to close with the heel of her boot. With a last burst of strength she pushes Canary onto the thin mattress of the single bed. It creaks and groans loudly from the impact, and the other woman just bursts out giggling like a teenage girl. 

“I didn’t know,'' she manages between laughs. “That you were so eager to get me in bed.”

Frost rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me regret not leaving you sprawled outside on the street. Sleep.”

“Aye, aye ma’am.” Canary mock salutes and barely twenty seconds later she’s out cold. A snort escapes her and she moves towards the small closet in the room in search of some blankets she can lay on the floor. It’s then that she unintentionally catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and flinches at the eyes that stare back at her.

It’s like seeing a ghost.

******

Killer Frost has a steamy cup of coffee and some toast sitting on the small nightstand when Canary comes to. It’s hilarious, from her spot leaning against the wall, to watch the woman turn three different shades of green before she jumping out of the small bed and rushing towards the bathroom. Her nose crinkles when the sounds of hard heaving reach her ears and she makes a mental note to have the bathroom  _ cleaned and disinfected  _ afterwards. 

It takes a while for the woman to start communicating with something other than grunts when she returns to the room and sits back on the bed, but the moment the caffeine hits she immediately sobers up. Her eyes are sharp again and she’s looking at Frost, a question evident in her gaze. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she wants to know.

“I won’t go back yet. I need time.”

Canary nods. “And what do I tell him?”

“Tell him I’m fine.”

“...Anything else?”

“No.”

They don’t talk any more after that. Canary finishes her coffee and the cold toast, and she’s out the door before Frost can even bid her goodbye. A sigh escapes her lips and she moves to stand by the window overseeing the back of the building, where she knows the other woman will open her breach back to Central City. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach and a nagging thought begging her to scream, to tell her to wait, but everything is quickly drowned out by a wave of cold that leaves her numb.

When she passes the hallway mirror again on her way down to the bar, her eyes are back to piercing blue. 


	3. Part 3

The hideout is quiet, aside from the familiar soft beeping of the satellite scanning for threats and the coffee machine that he still hasn’t found the patience to tinker with. Arrow and Canary had left a few hours ago to head back home, and Barry has done this round for the night, along with the other two. The city was too quiet for a Friday night and that was somehow disappointing, as his hands itched for something -  _ anything _ \- to do, other than pulling apart and then putting back together the same tech over and over again. The machine beeps and fills his cup, and he eyes it with resignation. Perhaps today is the day that he gets to fix the old thing after all. 

He crosses the threshold of the small kitchenette into the main area, coffee cup in hand. The small coffee machine sits under his arm, and Reverb casts one last futile glance over the silent monitors, hoping that something small had popped up on the radar while he wasn’t looking. But there’s nothing there and he has a feeling that with his luck, there’s going to be nothing for the rest of the night.

Tinkering it is,  _ again. _

On his way to his workshop, he passes the small office Killer Frost had claimed as her own and his heart sinks. It’s been more than two weeks now since Canary had returned with news but without her, and nearly a full month since she was last in Central City. Regardless of what he was told at the time, he has started to believe they won’t be seeing her around again. And that hurts more than anything, because it wasn’t like he’d just lost a possible lover - he’d lost his best friend. 

Sure, they didn’t see eye to eye most of the time and sure, she could be absolutely infuriating at times, but Reverb knew Frost had a side to her that no one but him had been lucky enough to catch even the faintest glimpse of. It was that side that always led to him finding a package of his favourite candy on his desk when he was having a bad day. The side that he would be met with when she would sternly scold him for getting injured, only to end up patching him up to make sure he was okay. The side that would have her laughing on his couch at three in the morning, when his neighbor would bang on the wall to tell them to be quiet while - too drunk to function - would attempt a retort that sounded more like gibberish than anything else.

It was that side that he’d felt that afternoon, for the faintest split second, after his lips had touched the hollow of her throat. 

But then she’d pushed him away and left the city. 

Maybe it was his fault for letting things get too far, maybe it was hers for playing games with him; but regardless of who was to blame for the situation, there was no denying the underlying feelings that both refused to address had been the main driving force for their actions. The past weeks had given him plenty of time to come to terms with that, but there was no telling what was going on on her side. Canary had been pretty vague on details - she’d came back nursing quite the hangover - so whatever had been said and done hadn’t involved an ‘ice dart practice’. 

That had given him the faintest of hopes that she might be returning soon and they could have  _ the talk  _ once and for all and clear things up, but that ship soon sailed as another week passed. 

Perhaps it was for the best. 

Reverb opens the door to his workshop and both coffee and coffee machine fall to the floor with an audible  _ crack  _ and a  _ thud.  _ The scalding liquid burns his calf but he doesn’t even have the mind to move or curse, not when there’s a familiar silhouette sitting on his desk. He can’t see her face in the low light that emanates from the desk lamp, only the way her shoulders are low and her arms are resting at her sides. He knows she’s looking at him, perhaps waiting for him to say something -  _ anything  _ \- and yet he finds that his throat is suddenly dry and the words have all but flown out his brain. 

He sees her shift slightly in place and then her legs are crossed, one over the other. “Hi”, is all she says and he doesn’t know if he wants to scream or sob - maybe both.

“Hi,” he echoes and it feels empty, but what else is he supposed to say?

There’s a pregnant pause and he hears her clean her throat. “I suppose we should talk.”

“Yeah… we should.”

Silence.

It’s suffocating and it’s maddening and he doesn’t know how long he can take standing there with her sitting on his desk saying nothing. He wants to ask, wants to tell - more importantly, wants to  _ know -  _ where they are standing, because that metaphorical circle that used to define their relationship has shifted to some unknown shape. And he is dying to know just what exactly that shape may be.

Reverb swallows the lump that has formed in his throat. “Frost, I-”

“Call me Caitlin.”

He’s completely taken aback by her words, by her request. He blinks, eyes wide, and even though the wetness on his calf - that has completely cooled down by now - serves to ground him, serves to remind him that this is  _ really  _ happening, he’s still having trouble believing it. He wets his lips. “Sorry, I think I misheard you,” he tries. “Can you repeat that?”

She shifts again, this time to stand up, and Reverb watches, mesmerized, at how the light pouring from the open door dances around her form as she approaches him. She stops just shy of stepping into his personal space, and the first thing he notices are the warm brown eyes that stare right back at his. He barely suppresses a gasp of surprise at the sight. 

“I told you to call me Caitlin,” she repeats.

Reverb is still reeling from the sudden shift, the sudden request he never thought he would hear in a million years. A small  _ ‘why?’  _ is all he manages, and he almost instantly regrets it when the corners of her mouth twist downwards. 

Luckily she doesn’t seem much deterred by his reaction. “Because that’s my name, Reverb, and I want you to use it.”

“Okay”, he lets out, “Okay… Caitlin.”

The name rolls effortlessly and nicely off his tongue, even if it sounds foreign to him - he considers for a moment to just stick to calling her Frost, until the corners of her eyes crinkle in a certain way and there’s a smile on her lips that makes his heart nearly leap out of his chest. He could stand to make her smile like that again.

“So… We should talk, right? About…” he faintly gestures between them. “This.”

She takes a step closer to him, effectively crossing into his personal space. “Yeah, we should.”

Reverb swallows hard and his eyes unintentionally dart from hers to her lips. “... Definitely.”

Another step and she’s right there, right in front of him. The familiar chill that emanates from her is not what he expects it to be - she feels warmer - but it still has goosebumps crawling all over his skin. He involuntarily shivers. Then she’s biting her lip at his reaction and it’s just too much all at once. He moves without realizing and crashes their lips together. It’s part messy, part desperate, and his hands fly to her waist to pull her impossibly closer while hers cling to his jacket. 

He knows they have to talk. He knows they  _ should  _ talk. 

But then she’s parting her lips and he’s letting out a low growl and all reasoning flies out the window.

Reverb has her pinned against the shelving in no time, the same from that afternoon, and it feels like déjà vu. Except this time her hands are all over his skin and when his nose is buried in her hair and he kisses the hollow of her throat again, she lets out a delighted gasp and tilts her head to the side. 

They will  _ really  _ have to talk about all this, but talking can come much,  _ much  _ later. For now they have way better things to do.


End file.
